"What my less tactiful benefactor means," Zaroch explains, attempting to smooth things over, "-and I do apologize for putting words in your mouth, Vertimax- but what I believe he means is that to work out the logistics of this group, we need to find the holes in our skill sets. A marksman is always a valuable ally, but surely is not the only capacity in which you might aid us, no? You don't strike me as a learned man, but I can see the cunning in your eyes, I'm sure you must have a healthy respect for strategy."

"Hmmmph. Well, when ya put it that way, makes sense. I'm a hunter. Sharp eyes, nose, an' ears, and... well, there're things on my side. Hard to describe. The wind, the rain, the moon. That sorta thing. I'm not much for strategy, but I get inside my quarry's head, get a feel for what they'll do. Then I keep 'em from doing that, and that's worked pretty well for me so far."

Yeah you won't be bribing us with dark treasure and power beyond our imagination! I can imagine a lot of power and treasure! We're just in it so you can turn into a Lich and attack a town or something. Now that is what adventuring is for, seeing the cool bad guys wreak havoc and destruction!

OOC:

Are you having 2 parties? If so how many for the second one?

We get to kill a Lich? asks Kamotz smiling from ear to ear, I understood that much at least. You though, Kamotz slings the back of his hand toward Zaroch, Every other word is abyssal for all I know. I got strings and savory, the roast is fine but the entertainment doesn't generally dance here. Kamotz seems proud of himself to be contributing to the high class conversation. Sharpe, you any good at killing things yourself? Adventuring is for killing things.

The door opens and a huge shadow is evident in the frame, a blast of winter's air fills the tavern for a moment as the blue-skinned humanoid steps into the Tavern. His long white beard contains snow and frost, despite the temperature outside and a weapon made of pure ice is strapped to his back. The hide of some great bear adorns this giant of a man and tattoos cover his face. He stands nearly eight fall tall and piercing blue eyes glisten with intensity.

The giant straightens himself up and speaks, I am Sigarr, Son of Sigdan, slayer of Ulfdan One-Eye, slayer of the great lindwyrm and Chief of the Varyags . I was told coming here would help me in my quest so I am here." he states, voice booming and tiny condensation clouds emit from his mouth as he speaks, as one would when standing outside on a cold day.

Sigarr moves to the bar, orders a whole chicken and a large mug of mead, moving to try and find a table that can accommodate his large frame. He manages to squeeze into one of the two areas set up for the larger humanoids that frequent the tavern. As he sets the mug down, frost remains on the outside of the container.

Kamotz frowns at Sharpe Death is not a sport to watch. You should think about visiting the Temple of Lauto if you just want to watch.

Whiggins shakes out after standing for the entrance of Sigarr, bone dust settles around Kamotz as it is thrown loose from his robes. The sound of their plate mail scratching together is a raucous din, until finally the pair still themselves again. Kamotz levels his head, noticing they and Sigarr were close to the same height. After a long snuffle, Kamotz chortles You smell like deathly cold and dead bear, come have a drink with us!

The shifter turns to the rest of his group and nudges Whiggins, the dire wolf promptly lays back down, Look it the size of him! Vermitrax! You seeing this? What was that about your barbarian now Sharpe? Kamotz looks to Sharpe to see if he gets his joke, What else have you slain Sigarr, I've sent a young dragon to Lauto recently. Destroyed a Lich too, even though he laughed and said something about being immortal. I'll just destroy him again when he comes back. the smile returns to Kamotz even larger than before.